A New Color
by MillenniumKitten
Summary: Maka is an insomniac and a uprising artist. Living off from her colors and her brush she spends her nights and days painting her heart on a canvas with her boyfriend Kid. She thinks she's got it all under control, until a certain white haired artist joins her class and begins re-wiring her brain. Join Soul as he tries to help his fellow insomniac find herself in the world of art.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Soul Eater**

**Please enjoy I'm having a lot of fun writing this. I hope that you all adore it, it's something new for me. Someone asked me to do a slightly serious fanfic well here you go. This is what my brain coughed up!**

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**Picture 1: Something Exotic**

"Maka…Maka it's time to wake up." Warm fingertips brush my bangs aside as soft lips plant a loving kiss on my forehead. It's quite possibly the best way to wake up in this world, if there's a better way then I don't want to know about it. "Come on I've got coffee made, you'll be late if you don't get up silly girl."

With another kiss I allow my emerald green eyes to open and there looking straight into them are gold. Like the sun only prettier, it's as if I'm the only thing in this odd little world. I blush, this is my morning, waking up to _him_ and getting ready for school. I swear that my body sleeps in just for this experience.

"Kay…I'll get up," Sometimes being a lazy artist can be such a pain. "Mmmm…coffee. You spoil me."

"I also picked you up a doughnut."

My morning just got so much better. "Of course you did." He just thinks of everything doesn't he? No complaints here. "Stretching…it's a pain."

"That's because you don't sleep enough. If you went to bed earlier then you wouldn't have this problem," Kid chastises. "Your body wouldn't feel the need to have a mental shut down."

I'm already down the hall heading to the bathroom for a nice long shower. He can lecture me all he wants; I've heard it all before.

"You've got ten minutes!" Kid shouts.

That leaves six minutes for a shower, a minute to dress and pull my hair into pigtails, and three minutes to grab my coffee and doughnut and head out the door where Kid no doubt has the car running. He's always been one for having a schedule, it leaves me room to try and mess things up.

"Hold it!" Kid stops me as I pull on my favorite band t-shirt. With expert skill he lowers one of my pigtails, takes a step back and smirks at his work. "Perfect, just like you. Now come on, move your butt."

"Moving my butt." Mornings were always like this.

"That's my girl." He slings an arm around my waist to bump my hip with his before leading the way out to his sleek black car. The music blares and we're on our way to our art institute Witch's Hand. Fairly popular art academy for only the esteemed naturally. Not just anyone with a paintbrush can get in.

The students here are _always_ competing. We all have our own craft and yet some of us are way better at it than the other. Our teachers come to school wearing ripped jeans and paper clip earrings. Everywhere you look you see girls with paintbrushes stuffed through their buns, jewelry that they themselves made, and supplies everywhere. No one bothers to clean up; the floor itself has become one big art project.

It's a child's with a box of markers dream.

People draw and paint all over the walls, cans of spray paint sit in corners as their taggers work. There are hardly any schedules; everything is random moving to each individual's own beat. It's a mess and yet it's in complete order.

Or something like that.

"I'll see you later."

"I'll bring more coffee." Kid leaves me with a kiss on my cheek to head off to his own preferred art. Kid isn't a tagger or a painter, his true love comes in the form of statues. Name it and he's made something out of it. I remember his display made completely out of picture frames. Perfect and symmetrical and yet alluding to the eye, no one really knows what he's up to.

"Nice of you to join us Maka," My teach, Mr. Frost greets me. He's already got his paintbrush out and is helping some nit wit mix the perfect pink. I like to call him Frosty Cup. "Your easel is already set up; you know right where you left it. What time did you leave?"

Being an insomniac has it's perks. Most people claim to be an insomniac but true insomniacs, those are the ones that you'd love to hang around. Being able to stop painting at five am and get up at eight to head back here and appear completely normal takes some serious skill. "Yeah, yeah."

"Kid get you up?"

Technically speaking I was up at least twenty minutes before Kid came to get me, but I don't say that. I just nod and head over to my easel where I pick up my paintbrush and give it a quick spin to get my creative juices going. It's nice being able to paint what I want, I mean yeah it's a grade but it's a grade that I earn in a way that I decide. "…"

Starring at the canvas now I have to think 'What the hell was I thinking last night?'. That's the thing I _don't_ remember. I can't recall due to my thinking process so each and every day I start with a partially finished canvas and have to think about what I was wanting to do. "Mmm…coffee."

Helps to kick my brain in arse.

"Maybe some swirly action here…" Silas points out. Silas is a genius with the paintbrush and the funny thing is he doesn't even seem to know it, or he does and just doesn't care. His talent is like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, it's just that good. "What's up with the eyes? I don't quite get it…"

Green.

I have this canvas and on it is a pair of female eyes that stretch across the canvas with thick black brush stroke lines. She has eye shadow, light green and yet I hadn't decided what color eyes I was going for. The eye shadow is almost obnoxious the way I painted it, she has no mouth and yet it doesn't really call for one.

"How should I know what my brain likes to throw up on this?" I'm considering scrapping this for lack of something to do with it.

"I'm sure that it threw up for a reason Maka, have fun with it." He rubs my head before turning around to head back to his no doubt thousand dollar painting.

Have fun with it? That's what I used to do. Now I do it because…it's just what I do. It's my thing.

So I take my paintbrush and dip it in the silver.

Roses are red.

Violets are blue

Duct tape is silver.

She doesn't need a mouth, she needs duct tape.

"Heading home?" I yawn, Kid has stood up and it's about one am in the morning. I figured that he'd be leaving me soon, unlike me Kid is normal. Normal people enjoy sleeping; quite frankly I think sleeping is a waste of time.

"Sorry love," Kid wipes my cheek off which has somehow gotten splattered from my work. With the same hand he cups that cheek and raises my head ever so slightly so that he could kiss me in that odd messy upside down kissy way. "I'll see you in the morning, same time."

"Don't be late or I might not wake up." That's a joke, so we laugh. My body tends to wake up before nine no matter what I seem to do. Eyes linger as I watch him take his leave, he waves, from downstairs his car lights flicker twice and then he's just gone. It's just me, this easel, and the smell of paint. "Man…I really need some pudding or something."

Everyone else has been gone hours ago. It's just been me for the longest time; Kid sits in for a couple of hours before heading off to his own mansion. It's alright though; I'm used to being alone.

"This damn painting…" I glare at it, it's offending to me. The girl has duct tape over her nonexistent mouth, a blend of silver and black streaks. Her eye color still hasn't been decided but she's crying now, her tears turning a vibrant green from the eye shadow. It's almost eerie, something one might see on television where a girl's been kidnapped.

I sip at my coffee, Kid's last present. I have my own coffee maker; or rather Frosty Cup has it. He installed it a long time ago when he walked in on me here at around midnight. After the longest time he gave in and gave me my own key to this kingdom that is paints and oils.

There are some nights where I can just get lost in my art, others like tonight take the time that I never seem to have. Every moment that ticks by is a moment closer to sleep, that waste of time. If I had one wish I'd wish to never sleep, I'd be able to get so much more done this way. Sleep is-

"She's lonely, has a lot to say and yet can't find a way to say it-"

"SHIT!" My nice hot coffee drops to the tiled paint splattered floor. It spills, naturally, sending its coffee goodness streaking across my floor. "Fuck…who the hell is here at this hour?"

"You and me apparently."

Great and now he's a poet.

I'm seething mad, mad enough to get up off my stool and nearly snarl at the man who had spoken. I was supposed to be the only one here; it's why I like to stay here. No one to bug me. "Yeah screw you. Your hilarious…so tell me genius why are you here?"

"To help you clean up coffee?" He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms trying to be one of those cool kids that people make fun of.

Apparently this man has a shield for dagger eyes. "Yeah no thanks."

"Are you sure? You spilled quite a lot…" The man is smirking now; he's trying to be funny.

I consider flipping him off. "Nice observation. Can I help you?"

"You're the one who needs help-"

"That's it! I'm calling the police." _Make a joke out of that jack ass!_

"And tell them what? Some strange man walked into a room and you spilled your coffee? I'm sure that'll zip to the top of their list."

This man…he not only has straight A's in sarcasm he's also quite freaky looking. He looks exactly like someone who belongs here. Gravity defying snow white hair, jagged teeth, and the most disturbing red eyes I've ever laid eyes on. I want that color.

Instantly I think of how well that would contrast with her green eye shadow, almost like Christmas and yet something exotic all the same.

He's wearing a white t-shirt over paint splattered ripped jeans, all I can think is that he's an art student for sure. The problem is that I've never seen him; anyone would remember that slightly handsome face.

No.

It's those eyes that I would remember, the color of darkened rose petals. "Mr. Frost's class right?"

"Yeah," That confirms it. "What are you doing here so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Another smirk, I'm not amused.

"I like being alone, it helps me concentrate."

"And concentrate you do. I've been watching you for a while now…lost in thought were we?"

_Great he's an ass and a creeper, excellent combination._ "So what if I was? What's that got to do with you?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. I was just a bit curious," The man admits. He shrugs it off in a way that could just about irritate anyone. To me he seems more like a tagger then a painter. "I've seen what I came to see, I think I'll head home."

"That's it? You're just going to mess with me, make me spill my coffee, and disappear?"

"That's all I had planned. Why? We're the only two in this building, getting some ideas?"

That was it, I flip him off. His laughter echoes throughout the tagged hall, bouncing off and sending them back to me. It's obnoxious and a part of me wants to rip out of here and chase after him. To knock his lights out and demand to know why he wanted to mess with me.

I don't have time to do that, I can't afford to.

After all I have to get mixing; I have to find that color.

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**Read and review I hope that you love it! Please enjoy and note that the next chapter will be up next weekend! Chow!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Soul eater**

**So being the control freak that I am I decided that HEY I don't like chapter 2. Let's opt it out and make chapter 2 chapter 3 and upload this as chapter 2 instead. I find that it makes a lot more sense and...well it's amusing to say the least. MY APOLOGIES for the confusion. **

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**Chapter 2: Surprises and Coffee**

"Maka…Maka it's time to wake up." I wait for it, that kiss like in Snow White only it's on the forehead. He whispers my name against my forehead once more before resting his face in the crook of my neck.

Last night after I had come home I had a surprise waiting for me in my bedroom. Kid had been sleeping soundly my pajamas all laid out for me and the blankets pulled aside for me to crawl in. When I did crawl in his arm wrapped around me protectively and he had pulled me close to whisper a sweet 'Goodnight' into my ear.

I couldn't think of a better way to go to sleep. "Come on you, I know that you're awake. Get your lazy butt up." My neck is ticklish and he knows it, with each breath he takes I squirm a little bit. His fingers go beneath my shirt to my stomach. "You know what will happen-"

"I'm up I'm up!" I roll off the bed with perfect precision. I knew that he'd do it and part of me would love to have his hands all over my stomach but another part screamed not to get a tickle torture. Not this early. "Geez…resorting to _that_ are we? You must be desperate."

"I'm never desperate Maka," Kid sits up. He's smiling though. "I'm so happy that your this enthusiastic about school, you've got nine minutes due to that fiasco-"

"Crap!" I'm out of here.

Even from bathroom I knew that he was sighing and yet smiling at the same time.

"I'm here I'm here!" I zip into the classroom and stop short of barreling into someone. It's like a reality television show where they make the new kid stand in front of the classroom and say 'Hello my name_ _ I hope that we can all be friends' except this kid is slouched as if he could care less what his classmates think of him.

"Morning," He uses his sleeve to wipe away some drool. It's disgusting to say the least. "And here I thought you were playing hooky."

"Maka," Frosty Cup holds out a hand to the offending child. "This is Soul Eater Evens. He joined recently but this is his 'official' first day. I hope that you, as one of our top students, will be kind to him."

Only if Death City freezes over!

"Yeah," I say bluntly. "We've met. Move it."

"Is she always this charming?" Soul asks aloud. My shoulders go up as I drop my messenger bag to the floor beside my easel.

"You're a special case." Both Frosty Cup and Silas spit out. Silas seems amused but Frosty Cup looks like he wants to take some headache medication.

"Coffee?" Silas offers, he's carrying the pot that Frosty Cup has recently made. I've never been one to turn down a cup, so I pop the top and allow him to pour it black. "You're in a bad mood, want to tell me why?"

"No," I narrow my eyes. "What I want to do is go step on some grass hoppers!"

"Grass hoppers?"

"To kill something." My eyes go even narrower when Soul sets up his easel right next to mine. He scotches his stool so close that our hips are nearly touching. "Excuse me?"

"Oh please, stop being such a girl," If he means the personal space issue then he can shove it! Humans have that. "Nice brush."

"If I throw it will you fetch and never bring it back?" I try.

Soul snickers. "Not likely, you can throw it as far as you want those beauties are expensive."

My tongue catches. "Thanks…I guess."

"Hey I complimented the brushes you use, not your hair."

I really do hate him.

"Yeah what are those? Dollar store material?" I look at his own set. They look…not even used. It's almost funny; he's like a kid going to his first day of school. New paint brushes and everything!

"Death-Mart thank you very much."

We share a good laugh until I realize that he's serious. Who buys their brushes from a cheap place like that? It just didn't seem right to me, but to each their own. If that's what he's going to use to create art then I highly anticipate what he's going to create.

Instead of painting today though I got the pleasure of hearing a lovely skritch, scratch sound. I've known many painters who prefer to sketch out what they want to paint before they put brush to canvas.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little bit curious as to what he's cooking up. Every time I try to catch a peek at whatever he's sketching I find his snow white hair blocking my view. It's not really any of my business but come on he's right next to me. His knee has already bumped into my own more than once.

After my fifth failed attempt to see, I decide that it's actually time to do some work. Meaning it's back to mixing reds. I've already mixed at least four of them, each one of them looked off to me so I've hard to start over, not like Frosty Cup minds. I'm just creating them for him.

"Damn…" I curse after yet another failed attempt. He wasn't far if I ever need another peek but the thing is that I haven't been able to get those eyes out of my head. It was like they were permanently burned into my brain, it needed to get that color out and onto this canvas.

"Darker."

"Excuse me?" It's the first thing he's said since the Death-Mart comment.

He doesn't even bother looking at me, his hand moving expertly across the page. "You need to go darker."

"How would you know?" I accuse. Could it be that's he's figured me out?

"Because I'm just that good."

I try not to smack him.

Again the batch doesn't turn out right; it's starting to get on my nerves. I've never once had this much trouble trying to get a color just right. I move on to try something different but as soon as I do I find a sketchpad in my face.

"What's that?"

"Don't you like it?"

"I would if I could see it!" A sketchpad to the face isn't exactly definable.

He pulls it back just slightly, I'm pretty positive I have pencil on the tip of my nose. This sketch, I can't think to rub the pencil off my nose. It was like I was looking in the mirror.

From my pigtails to my adorable nose, he's defined them perfectly. There's even a paintbrush stuck behind my ear. The thing is that I'm smiling, just this cute little half smile that I haven't done in the longest time. "Wha…"

"See? Now you can't tell me that you wouldn't look pretty smiling."

What. The. Hell?

I can't quite describe what's going on in my stomach right now. It's a mixture of admiration and rage; it makes for a very nauseating mixture.

"Pretty." Silas's chin rests lightly on the top of my head. He seems eager to be a part of my life today, fine then. He can get punched along with this jerk.

"You think your pretty fu-"

"FEAR NOT!" The door is quite literally slammed open. It hits the wall with a powerful BANG that pisses quite a few of the painters off for it shakes the room. "For it is I BLACK*STAR! Mwa ha ha! You'd think that I'd let a big shot like you disturb Maka? Who the hell do you think you are? Certainly not a bigger star then me!"

I can't believe it. Graffiti artist Black*Star, famous for his loud tags that shoot across the sky. They say that he can make you feel anything that he wants.

Ever since I saw his tag featuring a girl fishing for the moon I've been interested in his work. It's odd, but he's really good.

And for some reason he's grown quite attached to me. So much so that he tends to pop in like this right when I need him, it's nice and yet quite obnoxious. My peers hate me for it.

"Okay who's this nut job?" Soul asks.

I shrug. "Didn't you hear him? His name is Black*Star."

"Wait seriously? That's not like his tag name-"

"Says the guy whose name is Soul." I point out.

"Right…" He chooses not to add anything to that. The two exchange looks, each sizing each other up. It's white VS blue and I'm not sure which one will win. Black*Star's voice could indeed reach the star's but Soul's level of sarcasm is one that even I haven't seen.

"Black*Star this is Soul, transfer student extraordinaire."

"She's jealous of my mad sketching skills." There's that smirk, his own version of Cheshire Cat's.

"Yeah, yeah you just stay away from the blacksmith class!"

I was wondering if he'd actually bring that up. It wasn't the class that he was particularly interested in. It was more of a who then a what. Beneath all the steel and hot metal stands a girl with long delicate fingers and a pair of lungs that would make a professional swimmer jealous. Tsubaki. Working with her is her assistant Crona, some sickly looking kid who's gender is unknown.

"Sure." And just like that the two are cool with each other. They even fist bump which tells me that this is going to make my life that much more miserable later.

After getting a good lecture from Frosty Cup, Black*Star takes his leave, whipping out a black spray paint can and tagging his name on our classroom door. A nearby girl sighs before going to get a hot water bucket. Her attempts will be futile, it's Black*Star's personal brand.

"And he's a friend…of yours?" A raise of the eyebrow from my new flea.

"A miracle huh?"

"Don't you have something better to do? Like work?" I look up at Silas who's chin is still on my head.

"I always have time for you. Besides your new friend is amusing. I like his style although your eyelashes are a tad bit longer. Kid would be revolted." Great, now he's got Silas doing it!

"Kid?" Soul asks.

"The Prince! Her Prince in clay armor, very symmetrical clay armor that is. I heard his new sculpture is going to be awesome despite being made of clay of all things. Kind of normal…" Considering his portfolio, yep. I bet his teacher is biting her nails off. "Death the Kid for full-"

"He couldn't care less-"

"So pigtails here has a boy huh? Never would have expected it!"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Depending on his answer I may consider strangulation.

Soul shrugs; he takes a moment to close his sketchbook, the sketch of me forever being enclosed. "I didn't think that you'd let someone that close to you, don't seem like the type."

"Excuse me?! Who the hell do you think you are-"

"More like the type to slap duct tape over her mouth and keep everything in." With that he stands up to take his leave, his hands stuffed all cool like in his pockets. I can't believe what he's just said, it's…frustrating.

"SCREW YOU SOUL EVENS!" I scream.

The door closes behind him

"So is not sleeping…like your thing or something?"

"…"

I refuse. I absolutely refuse to acknowledge him at all. I won't play this game; they say that when a baby cries you shouldn't run to comfort it for it will learn bad habits. I'm not about to be that person, I will not feed this little game that he's set up. I will not play with him, no longer. Screw you Soul.

"Rumor has it that you're some kind of insomniac. Pretty cool and yet kind of insane."

I grit my teeth. It's three am in the morning and the last thing I need to be doing is enabling this white haired freak.

"And yet you're kind of insane yourself. Your thought process…it throws me off-"

"Then leave me be! Leave me alone and get out of here! This is my time." I can't help myself. Snapping is what I do, or that's what it seems. I've never had this happen to me before, this intrusion. It's always been me in my space and yet now there's another trying to force his way in. Well I shove back! So back off.

He's got a smart ass comment for everything though. "I'm sorry I didn't see the sign in sheet. I'll remember that for tomorrow night…when do you get out? Five or something? I think that I can squeeze myself in somewhere."

"Good, then leave for right now. I can't deal with you." He gets under my skin. A lot of people and a lot of things get under my skin but nothing gets under my skin like Soul Eater. His company is like sitting next to a garbage can, I don't like it. I want him gone.

"What's so important? You've been working all day, take a break."

"If I take a break then I'll get lazy and won't be able to start up again." Plus if I don't paint then what will I do? Sure talking to someone is all fine and dandy but what next? What will I do when I don't have that person to talk to?

A shrug, I shouldn't have expected so much. "Then you shouldn't be painting."

I've never had one person tell me, not Kid and certainly not Silas. The only two other males that seem to understand me in this world. If I didn't paint then what else is there? Is there some other amazing talent that will earn me money that I have yet to discover? "It's what I do."

"Then do something else. No one is making you paint Maka."

"I am, I'm making me paint because painting is what I do. It's what I want to do Soul, if I didn't like it then I wouldn't be here anymore." The thing is I'm not completely sure what it is that I want. Is it really this? Do I really want to spend the rest of my life surrounded by the smell of paint? Do I really not ever want to find a paint free shirt in my closet?

_No._ "I still want to do this."

A toothy smile, one that he has yet to bless me with before. I decide that I kind of like it. "Good it'd suck if you quit now. Besides, you don't look like a quitter to me."

"Yeah," I smirk. "Now get out!"

"Oh come on! I just said something totally cool back there and that's all I get?"

"You just said I'm not a quitter. So leave." Maybe…just maybe Soul isn't as bad as he appears to be. Somewhere he has this thing that allows him to say stuff like that. Stuff that makes a little too much sense.

"Soul…"

"I'm going I'm going…" He groans.

I set my palette down but only for a second to say "I actually wouldn't mind your company…as long as you're not too much of an ass."

Even after I said that, he still heads for the door. I give up on him and turn back to my picture, the one with hardly any color. There's a slurping sound before the word "Cool" is said and then he's just gone.

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**Once again I am so sorry. Please enjoy though :) I put a lot of thought into this so...yeah sorry. Read and review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Soul Eater**

**Chapter 3 is confusing. Sorry but I had to make this chapter 3 instead of chapter 2 like it originally was. Hope it wasn't too confusing I really am sorry.**

**So please go and read the NEW chapter 2! You've read this! I will update! I'm terribly sorry again**

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**Chapter 3: Daring Reds**

"…" I'm glaring at the paint as if it were my enemy instead of my life. Since day one of 'that white haired freak' I've been mixing at least one batch of red each and every day. So far I've only gotten 'that's close' from my new parasite. He doesn't give me any hints even though I'm a hundred percent positive that he knows exactly how to mix this color.

The jerk.

"That…that is not the painting that was in here just a few hours ago." Soul comments when he sees my newest creation. It's something that I've just started; having gave up on mixing that damn color for right now. After all the school art festival is getting closer with each and every day that passes. There was no way that I'm going to enter pieces from last year's portfolio. No way.

"Well maybe if someone would just tell me then I wouldn't be here still trying to mix. I'm not sure about you but I don't have time to be wasting on just painting. I need to get my craft on and I need to do it now." What I hoped was that starting a new painting would help me kick my brain back onto the tracks. "You're not worried?"

"If I worry about it then my paintings won't come out as well as they could have," Soul shrugs. "Plus my paintings are _always_ cool. I'm sure that yours are as well, so kick back for a moment and leave a little breathing room. You're only human."

"Shush you-"

"I couldn't agree more."

The smile that comes to my face when a bunch of beautiful red lilies are pressed into my nose is one that I haven't given in the longest of times. Flowers are beautiful but they die, and yet…I can't help but love them. "Mmmmm…"

"Smells like grass huh?" Soul snorts.

"Excuse me?" Kid shoots Soul a look, clearly wondering about why our hips were touching. His gold eyes settle on Soul's red ones, they don't look impressed. Not by a long shot. "I'm sorry but who are you?"

"This is Soul, Frosty Cup asked me to be nice to him. I'm not." I admit brazenly. It's not my fault that this moron is always irritating me. He certainly doesn't bring me flowers and coffee. "He's new and quite frankly I don't see what's so special about him."

"Neither do I. He's a piece of something…" Kid shrugs. Soul was the exact type of person that would drive Kid crazy, especially his damn hair. There isn't a lick of gel in it and yet it stands up perfectly. How? "Having fun?"

"Not exactly."

"Bad day?"

"Not now," I take the red lilies swearing to go and grab a vase to complement their beauty. "Thank you, I mean it."

"You should turn in early today. I'll make dinner."

"That's tempting. Hmm…sure I think I need to kick back for a moment and take a breather. Dinner with you sounds exactly what I need," The look Soul gives me is a look that dentist might give a cavity. "I'll see you in a few hours then?"

"Of course, I'll see you soon love." We kiss with the lilies between us and then he's off with both hands in his pockets, his head held high like it always is.

As soon as he's gone Silas lets out a whistle from his station. "Man he must really not like you."

"Do you always point out the obvious?" Soul sighs. "Look, Maka when I said that, I meant you should kick back with me. Not Mister Tight Wad over there."

"Excuse me? I don't remember you inviting me to dinner. Besides _Kid_ is what makes me happy right now." I smirk.

"He's so…orderly. It makes me cringe just looking at him in his little suit. I mean honestly Maka is that what you want? Some dude in a suit who sows order into every word?"

"Yes! I need some order in my life Soul." My life is so messed up. Being an artist is a risky job until you have a confident benefactor; everyone believes that I'll get that. Kid already has one and he comes from a rich family, with him I know that no matter what I'll be secure, I'll be okay.

Plus he loves me. I can't count how many times he's told me that, the first time he told me that I had sprayed coffee all over the balcony where we were lounging. I'm messy and sometimes disorganized, while Kid is orderly and seems to have every moment planned out ahead of time. He makes life easy and makes it comforting to play.

I can't have someone hectic in my life for then my life wouldn't work. I can see it falling to pieces one at a time as I continue to fight for it. It just…wouldn't work.

"Order huh? Sounds incredibly boring."

I bit my lip and say nothing.

"Maka, that's not how much the recipe calls for!" Kid warns as I begin mixing more and more sugar into the icing. Sugar, butter, and cream cheese are God's gift to us lowly beings. I might as well use as much of them at the same time as often as I can.

"Sorry Kid but it's just so yummy." I smirk as some powdered sugar streaks across my nose. I can already tell that this is driving him crazy; this is pure chaos in my kitchen! I'm loving every second of it as the over goes off telling us that our red velvet cake is done.

It's our main course naturally.

"Satisfied?" Kid asks after I have turned our gorgeous white frosting black. "You're a mess!"

"Sure am." I'm not sure which statement I'm answering. "Want a taste?" I swipe a little glob off the edge and hold it out to Kid.

"Sugar…sugar…and more sugar." He teases after licking the last bit from my finger. They say that the more sugar you add the less of that yummy cream cheese flavor you get.

My bad.

"Let's frost this bad boy and cut into it!" I'm eager to eat it. After a lovely meal of steak and delicious red potatoes fed to me by my prince charming, I was more than ready for some cake.

I seriously haven't had this much fun in a while. Baking a cake with Kid is like wind clashing with heat; it's a fun experiment that my head has been cooking up.

Naturally he follows the recipe to the dot.

I prefer to go all natural and add dashes of this and dashes of that just to see what would happen. Don't even get me started on the food coloring.

"Do you still have an appetite?" I ask when I cut into the cake.

"Only if you'll feed it to me."

"That could get messy." Black frosting and skin tend to hate each other.

What a lovely combination though.

Eating cake with Kid was exactly the fresh air that I needed. More than once I had gotten frosting on his nose and more than once I opted for licking it off instead of using a napkin. After the cake we fall to the floor watching some bad romance movie and holding hands.

When he's fallen asleep I get up, situate the covers around him, and take out my sketch pad.

I have no idea what Soul was talking about. Tonight had been amazing, it was full of cakey goodness and lots of kisses. What could be better than cake and kisses? If there's something better than this then I'd like to see Soul try.

In fact I dare him.

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**Read and review! I'm sorry about the mishap!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Soul Eater**

**Hey! Here's your REAL update :3**

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**Chapter 4: Lollipops and Withering Flowers**

"You know…sometimes I think the cops don't want to catch you Black*Star." I state after I watch him finish up a tag about two boys following a girl with a lollipop. Their eyes are hypnotized as if the lollipop had been spinning, forever her slaves as she moves on. "Your tags are just…cool."

"Well of course they are! Spray paint is my thing Maka. Are you honestly surprised?" Black*Star stands to admire his own work for a moment. He then whips out his black can and signs it in his weird way. I do think it's unique, adding a real star into his name. "I'm famous even if no one really knows it's me! Besides who cares about any of that, I know it's me and you know it's me! That's all that matters anyway."

"Are you seriously telling me that you don't mind not having fans recognize you?" That sounds very un-Black*Star. He's always going off about how the world should bow before his superior nature and that they should all recognize him for the big star that he is.

"They don't have to recognize me to worship the ground I walk on! Besides if I have fans following me around then I wouldn't be able to tag in private or talk to you like this," He shrugs it off like it's no biggie. "As cool and awesome as a life as a celebrity sounds, I think I'll pass. Don't count me out though Maka, I'm just waiting for you to catch up! When you make your epic debut I'll have to outshine you! PREPARE YOURSELF!"

And he's off.

"We done here Black*Star? If so let's go and visit Tsubaki-"

"What? Were we waiting to go and do that?! Damn! If I would have known that then I wouldn't have taken my time! Let's go Maka!" He grabs my hand and we're off racing through the streets of Death City. He knows these streets like the back of his hand; it's like one big maze with stairs in random parts so that you can get farther up.

He guides me effortlessly and with a speed that is obviously meant for me to keep up with. Being with Black*Star is like stepping on marbles, its fun and yet you never know if you're going to fall or not.

"Tsubaki!" We rush into her part of the blacksmith's shop. She's not blowing glass so that means she's in her room.

The room that she's completely filled with glass. When we walk in she's dancing, weaving in out between the glass hanging from the ceiling. There's glass flowers growing everywhere in her room, from the messed up trumpet in the corner, to winding around the hat rack. Everywhere there's glass, on the table and on her there's no way that you can miss it.

We watch as her reflection bounces off each piece, sending us odd visuals of her body twisting and weaving through her work, occasionally she'll run her fingers against a piece and if it clashes against another piece she smiles knowing that it didn't crack.

"Hey guys!" She's spotted us after looking into a nearby mirror. "You should have told me that you came in."

In her hair is a small clip with a glass yellow star melded to it.

"Tsubaki! Sorry it took so long; Maka here can't keep up with a big man like myself." Hmmm glass hurts when you smash it over someone's head.

"I see, that's alright. I was just helping Crona out; he's trying to collapse some things in a bottle." Little Crona, a sickly kid with a fear for just about everything. Perfect little thing for Tsubaki to teach it works out really well actually. "What's going on?"

"We're getting the gang together. No certain reason, it's Black*Star's idea naturally. I think we'll hit the town or something." Go and look at the shops and perhaps buy some supplies. We can always order our supplies from the school but most of us have a certain shop that we like to buy our stuff from.

"We should go and pick up Soul and Silas. Liz, Patty, and Kid as well."

I definitely didn't want to pick up the sisters. They drive me up the wall with Liz telling me how plain I look and Patty just being Patty. I swear that girl is bouncier then a Chihuahua on a sugar rush.

"Sure." Tsubaki, I love her. She goes along with anything we have planned. Even if she really doesn't want to, we might see her cringe but there's no objections. That's what she's got me for I'm the voice she can't get out.

"I'll text Kid to meet us outside, let's hit the art room. Forget the sisters I'm not ready to deal with them yet." Especially Patty. At least Liz has some intelligence.

The art room is the same as it always is. Soul is sitting in the windowsill today with his sketchpad propped up against his thighs. Silas is painting away with vigor today. Thrusts and dark streaks. He almost looks like a swordsman. "Soul, Silas let's go. We're going to buy supplies today-"

"Yes!" Silas can't get off his stool fast enough, his paintbrush is air born as he bounds to our side. With a compliment to Tsubaki he's ready to go, a little too eager if you ask me. I know exactly what this is about though.

Soul raises an eyebrow, having not realized that he's become part of our little group now. If he has the stones to sit that close to me then that automatically puts him in our group. There is no objection especially when Black*Star shouts that he's a wuss if he doesn't come.

His sketchbook is left; he knows full well that we'll be back here tonight.

"Kid!" I shout as soon as I see him. He's leaning against our morning ride, checking his watches every so often. One on each side naturally. "Hey! I'm glad that you could get out of class!"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Not like I need supplies or anything." Kid is about the only one of us besides Tsubaki that orders his stuff from the school. The reason being is the fact that most stores don't carry the amount of stuff that he requires to create his odd little things. Tsubaki works with glass.

"Good answer. Let's go!"

There's a certain street that we artsy people like to call 'Artist Alley' it's the place where everyone can go and marvel at this and that's. It's a place where anyone can feel comfortable, the only odd ones out are the ones who believe it's awkward.

Naturally it's filled to the brim with all kinds of artsy shops and stalls that line the odd colored streets. Musicians play out in front looking for a quick tip while caricaturists draw their funny faces. It's everywhere and that's why we like it.

"Gotta love this place." Soul remarks as soon as we step foot on a red colored piece of sidewalk. Coming here during the day was safe but coming during the night was when everything really does come alive. Too bad today's field trip was under the laughing sun.

"This entire street is a piece of art." Kid takes my hand as we walk, swaying in the breeze. I love the look Soul gives us, and the look that Black*Star gives to Tsubaki is priceless. Just watching him look at her like a lost little puppy is making me smile, it's cute and she's so oblivious and shy.

Silas however is impatient, his converse are all over the place as he dances about throwing his hands into every word he speaks. He's excited; he doesn't get to come here very often for he's afraid that he doesn't have a good excuse.

"Relax, we'll stop there first. You can hang off her every word when we get there."

"Shut up! It's not my fault that her father hates artists! It's kind of ironic due to the fact that his wife is an artist. He's such a hypocrite! He runs an art store and married an artist, rumor has it that he used to love art but after marrying Rose's mother who's obsessed with her art, he changed. She was hardly around and she barely paid any attention to Rose and her father."

I've heard of that. Artist who completely devote their lives to their art where it rips their family apart. It's nuts but that's the way some people are.

"But I'm not like…I would never put Rose through something like that." The look in Silas's eyes sends chills through me. I've never seen him like this, he's always so joyful and optimistic but now he actually looks like a man. He looks like someone any girl could fall in love with. "She means too much to me-"

"You're such a good guy." I gush.

He turns red, redder than any apple I've ever painted. "Sh-Sh-Shut up! Of course I am!"

_He's totally innocent._

"Let's head in." I point to the shop that his eyes have been scanning for the entire time. He doesn't hesitate; he heads right in listening to the jingle of the bells.

Rose is there, sitting on a stool behind the counter looking through an album. She has her own art style, photography and I've never seen anything like hers. The princess and the painter.

Her chocolate colored hair dips down splaying across her photos as she smiles at one in particular. I don't have to see to know which one she's smiling at, it's the one with her and Silas making snow angels together with their mittens together.

"Rose."

Apparently the jingle hadn't jostled her, but the sound of his voice sure did. Her entire body spazed as she flings herself to cover up her photo album and shove it under her cute little stomach. "S-Silas! You came…"

"Sure did."

They didn't speak, they hardly ever do. It's odd but it kind of feels like there's a conversation going on that only they can hear. If you look at them it makes you want to blush.

"Art…" Soul remarks. It's about the only thing he can think of to say to break this rather awkward silence. Instantly Silas and Rose shake their heads and smile. Instead of being lost in their own world, they're back to smiling happily and Rose is back in work mode.

"Sure is….we carry pretty much anything an artist needs. If you can't get it here we'll make it so that you can."

We all buy from Rose, it doesn't matter if we need something or don't. Her shop needs the business it's one of those that depend on loyal customers such as ourselves. We always recommend her and all of us have at least a few cards in our back pockets to hand out.

Plus Rose is just so cute.

"So you sell those fancy snancy brushes Maka uses?" Soul makes his way through the aisles, stopping to look every now and then.

"Right here. Only the best for Maka, although if I were you I would find your own style. Find a brush that makes you comfortable and we'll order it."

"He buys his from Death-Mart." I snicker.

Silas and Rose exchange smiles.

"Hmmmm…I'm not so sure what my next tag is going to be." Black*Star is over in his section. They carry his personal brand of spray; Rose always keeps it in stock just in case he happens to need a color.

"Yeah! They came out with a new lava red if you want to give it a try."

"I could have a guy riding down a mountain of lava on a huge landmass of ice!" And just like that he grabs three cans of the stuff.

I don't think he looks at price tags. "Hey Rose, I need the usual."

"The usual it is, I'll have it sent over. Take it off your card?"

"Please."

"You got it!" Just like last time, I'll walk in tomorrow and find my supplies in a nice big box with a thank you note on the top. The reason I do this is because if I order stuff then that means that Rose will be stopping by tomorrow and that means Silas can act like a school girl on his first date.

"It's you." They say when you speak of the devil then he shall appear. So it's only natural when Rose's father walks into his shop looking like he needs a serious cup of joe. He's glaring at Silas in a way that makes me want to stand in front of him spread eagle.

"Just doing a little shopping." Silas promises. His eye are locked on Rose like they always are, her father couldn't kick him out for Silas would just refuse to leave. After all shopping for supplies isn't illegal and if he wants to start something he's got four people who are going to back Silas up.

The father doesn't hesitate. "Head in the back Rose, count the stock. I'll watch up front for you."

"Of course father. I'll see you tomorrow Maka."

I wave; she's such a sweetheart that I feel sorry for her. I feel even sorrier for Silas though, he's being withheld from his love for being himself and that isn't going to fly. It isn't fair that he's being blamed for someone else's mistakes!

This man needs to buck up and grow up at the same time.

"Man I hate him." Black*Star sighs as we're walking down the street. Soul has his arms full of supplies; he's trying out paintbrushes apparently. Including the set that I own.

"He's just looking out for his daughter that's all. I can't say that I fault him for what he's doing." Silas's arms are behind his head as he walks his eyes and thoughts no doubt lost in the clouds. He's always so laid back like this, perhaps that's why her father doesn't like him.

I don't think I've ever seen him act completely serious.

"Oh please! He's blaming you for his wife's mistakes." I snort.

"Yeah but," Kid exchanges a look with Silas that makes me heart drop. Call me a hopeless romantic but I believe that if you want something bad enough then all you have to do is put the effort in it. "There's no guarantee that Silas won't end up just like her. You just never know with someone who has a passion like that-"

"I'm sorry but if I ever got that entranced with my art that I completely forget about you then I'd want you to give me a good slap across my face and talk to me about reality. Slap some sense into my world!" That's what Kid is supposed to be here for. He's my rope that helps pull my head back down to earth.

"I'd never be able to slap you." Kid pulls me to him so that he can peck my cheek. "You mean too much to me-"

"All the more reason to give her a good slap!" Soul practically shouts, it rattles my ears for a moment. Kid shoots him a nasty look while Black*Star fist pumps the air. "She's not five and besides, everyone needs a good slap every once and awhile."

I hate to admit it, but I completely agree with him.

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**Hey! So here's chapter 4. I was like a typing machine this weekend. So I hope that you all enjoy :3**

**Read and review pleeeease ^^**


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